


'My Hellevator'

by hans_husband



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dystopia, Emotional? maybe?, Grammarly© is my bitch, Happy Ending, Hellevater, Hellevater AU, OT8-Freeform, One Shot, Short One Shot, kinda happy, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hans_husband/pseuds/hans_husband
Summary: It’s on fire. The couch is aflame and Chan doesn’t know what to do. It won’t go out. He can’t put it out.It’s on fire. Everything burns.Then it’s not. The boys are there. They’re laughing and Chan finds himself doing the same.And he presses the button.The crude graffiti stares at him. He stares back.2020.10.04. Has been updated to no longer include ex SKZ members.He’s plummeting down. He’s thrown back, desperately clutching at the bars. Desperately clutching at his cage.
Kudos: 5





	'My Hellevator'

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

The gates open for him. The cage welcomes him in, dares him to take a step of faith. 

The room is bare. There’s an echo across the round walls. From what, Chan doesn’t know. 

There’s a narrow hallway. Doors line the walls like a hospital. It resembles the prison he’s chained to. Underground. In his head.

A basketball hoop stares at him from the wall, looking down on him. 

And they’re all in a classroom. The window is open, allowing a cool breeze to find it’s way into the room. Green mocks them from outside. 

Outside. Chan never thought he would see it again. He pushes past the stacked chairs, not believing what his eyes are telling him. They ignore the lesson on the chalkboard. He’s racing towards the window, reaching out and… it’s gone. 

Forgotten was the lesson. The chalkboard is bare.

The sun is out. Not that they can tell much anymore. The room’s a mess. Poor drawings litter the walls. Stories. Confessions. Secrets.

Chan is alone.

Only Han occupies the couch. The skylight gazes at him. He can’t tell if it’s a gaze of sympathy or mockery. He can’t find it in him to care.

The basketball bounces harshly. It’s echo snaps back.

Chan and his echo are there. He shouts. His echo doesn’t respond. His shadow collapses in frustration.

The ball rolls away.

The windows are boarded shut now. Chan glimpses through the cracks. He leans against a fence. A fence?

He doesn’t recall it being there a moment ago. He turns around. He’s not in the room anymore. His eyes close. 

Han still sits on the couch. Patiently, as though he’s waiting for something. Maybe someone. He isn’t sure anymore. He can’t find it in him to care.

Chan swears he was just here. 

The couch is rushed, and Han laughs as a body drapes itself over his lap, a familiar pair of eyes grinning up at him. They smile because they’re together.

A searchlight passes over a barren room. A red light is flashing. An alarm might have gone off. It definitely went off. It’s screeching, the noise penetrating the still air. 

A searchlight passes over dark figures. Nine. 

The button is right there. So easy just to reach out. 

They’re all on the couch. They don’t fit, so they pile together. Bodies are entwined, which should be uncomfortable, but it brings a sense of security to them all. Chan’s hand is cradled gently by Minho. The younger smiles, pressing his lips gently to bruised knuckles.

The books burn.

Han is alone. 

The ball burns too. The faint reminder of its bounce still holds in the air.

Chan is laughing. They all are; it’s bright out today. The sun can be seen from their holding underground. There’s streamer flying from one hand to another. Where it came from, no one’s really quite sure. 

The couch has toppled over by now, unable to withstand the roughhousing of the nine. Someone has his arm trapped against their chest. His shoulder is taken by someone’s head. He’s not sure who.

He’s in the empty room. But he’s smiling. Almost in pain, a grimace. He looks back up and they’re all there.

The empty classroom screams for them.

They’re on a street. It’s night time. Streetlamps wash over them, bathing the boys in yellow light.

Minho wraps his arm over Felix’s shoulder. A fond smile is thrown his way, not that he sees it. They’re strikingly beautiful in the shallow light.

Hyunjin is alone too. He’s sitting on the sky dome.

Chan looks up. Looks down. He looks out around him, there’s nothing for as long as he can see. It gets to him, sometimes. 

He’s in the street.

The red light still blinks. 

Han shoves someone's arm off his shoulder. Chan looks after his back as Han walks away. He knows he’s staring, but he can’t help it.

The chair is on fire.

The word glows pale yellow. Elevator. He doesn’t know where it goes to. Han steps in anyways. 

The bottle shatters against the wall.

His finger hovers dangerously over the red button. The elevator climbs through the floors. Four. Five.

Nine. 

He accepts it. The button, where it will take him. The word ‘Hell’ seethes. 

Felix is in the cage now. Then Chan. He’s alone.

And it’s dark. The elevator rattles and he’s screaming. He’s pleading to be let out. The red button glares at him from the button pad. It’s taunting him, egging him to give in and press down. 

There’s a glass dome, a skylight filtering in the minimal light from outside. It catches on the dust, illuminating the particles. 

It’s almost beautiful. 

There’s no moon. His companions still look beautiful. They always do, but especially tonight. The crisp air bites at their skin, the barely-there light highlights their faces. 

It’s on fire. The couch is aflame and Chan doesn’t know what to do. It won’t go out. He can’t put it out. 

It’s on fire. Everything burns. 

Then it’s not. The boys are there. They’re laughing and Chan finds himself doing the same. 

And he presses the button. 

The crude graffiti stares at him. He stares back.

He’s plummeting down. He’s thrown back, desperately clutching at the bars. Desperately clutching at his cage. 

He throws the Molotov. The couch is on fire. Han’s sitting on the couch. Chan reaches out, a shout catches in his throat, and he chokes on a sob. He’s alone. Then he’s not. 

Jisung is alone. Chan is alone. 

Chan throws himself over the occupied chair, wrapping his arms around the two figures. He has an armful of a giggling Jeongin and a slightly shocked Seungmin. Seungmin huffs and Chan feels the fire fall over his ear. Chan notes how the youngest is taller than him now. 

Jeongin clutches him back tightly, his hands balled into Chan’s shirt. They’re alone. Jeongin looks up, pleading with watery eyes. A smile graces his lips. Chan promises.

His footsteps fall lightly. Soft, hushed breaths follow him.

His footsteps are echoing through the long corridor. His companions are with him. Then they’re not.

They’re leaning against the walls, eyeing Chan. Their stances would seem threatening if Chan hadn’t known them as well as he did.

He wants to tell them they’ll be okay. That they’re fine. His jaw clenches. He simply nods.

His footsteps are loud. His heartbeat is louder. He’s not alone. His heart hammers. 

Seven pairs of feet join his. Seven other hearts hammer with his. In tandem. They’re eight. They’re one. They’re nothing.

The elevator is packed. It’s caging the eight. It’s caging Chan. Alone, his hands reach to grip the bars. 

But his hands are at his sides, and a smaller pair gently encase his. He opens his eyes, interlocking his gaze with a pair of warm, brown ones. 

Felix is silently assuring him, “We’re okay.” But he doesn’t speak. None of them do. None of them can. He tries for a smile, opting instead just to squeeze the other’s hands in assurance. 

They’re okay. 

The elevator crashes. 

The barred doors open for Chan. He gazes out before him, a foot carefully stepping out. The elevator sits in a field of purple. There are mountains on the other side of the field, watching over the field. Trees line the sides of the grass. It’s beautiful. 

A gentle breeze rustles Chan’s hair.

Han gazes around the field. He can’t believe what he’s seeing.

They all stepped into the elevator. They’re all waiting and watching in bated breath as the elevator climbs. As it falls. 

Han takes off into a sprint, crossing the purple field. The sun bears down on his skin, welcoming him into the open hair. 

He’s free. They all are.

They all race after him and their laughs echo off the mountains surrounding them. Echoing off the trees, filling the quiet air with frantic cries. They reach a dirt road, a path. They don’t know where it leads, but it’s a start. 

They stop running and collapse against one another, panting from their run. They don’t know who starts crying first, but they’re all sobbing. Taking each other into their arms and letting their tears fall. 

Chan is the first to look up, sniffling and rubbing the dew away from his eyes. Han is by his side, their arms entangled, hands desperately grasping at each other. 

Soon enough, they’re all gaping at the scene above them. Eyes wide as they take in what shouldn’t be possible. A city stands tall, hanging above them. It’s as though the buildings are looming from the sky, skyscrapers pointing down at the nine. The city stares down at them, accusing. They stare back in wonder. 

They see the dome in the center of the city, the skylight that taunted freedom. The place they couldn’t call home. They can see everything now, it seems. 

But that doesn’t matter. They’re together, now. They won’t have to be separated again. 

The red glare that promised them Hell brought them here. A paradise they never knew existed. 

They made it outside. They were free.

**Author's Note:**

> I scribbled all of this down in my sketchbook during AP History, so I apologize if it isn't great. I was watching the 'Hellevator' MV and I wanted to write something based on it.


End file.
